Steele for the Prosecution
by SuzySteele
Summary: Steele's first court testimony for the agency creates a crisis for Laura and Murphy that they hadn't anticipated. This first season story is a sequel to License to Steele. It's also the first story I wrote after rediscovering the series in 2015, and it's still one of my favorites.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

It was going to be a glorious day, the ersatz Remington Steele pronounced to himself as the elevator decanted him to the floor of his still-new work place. What a feeling it was, to be doing an everyman's day of work, helping people with their problems, getting another splash of publicity in the newspapers, and having another go at storming the delectable Castle Holt. Positively glorious.

"Good morning, Miss Wolf!" He shared the day's glory with the agency's secretary as he swept into the offices. And deliberately ignored co-worker Murphy Michaels, who was doing something with something that looked suspiciously like a file. "I don't hear the cheerful lilt of Miss Holt's delightful cadence?"

"She's out of the office. With a deposition."

"My, my. I hope it isn't contagious."

"It's something we call 'work'," pointed out Murphy as he plunked the folder onto Bernice's 'in' tray. "All part of the boring job of being a private investigator."

"I never believed for a moment it would be anything less. And what's her brief? A fiendish murder brought to justice? A young child rescued from dangerous kidnappers? A…?"

Murphy grinned. It wasn't a pleasant grin. "She's at the D.A.'s office. Something about the attempted theft of the Royal Lavulite stones." Steele's smile vanished and Murphy's only broadened. "In fact, maybe she's telling them all about your role, right now."

"No need," Steele replied smoothly. But his hand rose unconsciously to check the lay of his impeccably-knotted tie. "The Remington Steele Agency did its usual magnificent and professional job in securing Gordon Hunter after his theft of the gems. My personal contribution was a mere footnote."

"A footnote?!" Two hours later, the beloved voice rang outrage from the front office. "He called it a footnote?!" Steele couldn't make out Bernice's muffled reply. He smiled happily.

"Ah, Laura's back. All's once again right with the world."

The door to his office flung open and only the wall stopper prevented yet more violence to the wall behind.

"Laura! How lovely to see you! I trust all went well with your little legal soiree?"

"It's not my little soiree that's the problem! It's yours!"

She thrust the heavy paper that Bernice had just handed her from that morning's mail, narrowly missing his nose. He reached forward and gingerly accepted it.

"Is this for me? I must have a word. How remiss of Miss Wolf to exclude me from my personal corresponden…" He looked up from the letterhead, his lips forming a perfect O.

"Yes, Mr. Steele. It seems that your past sins have caught up with you. You've been deposed."

"Me?!"

"By the defense."

"They deposed Remington Steele? Can people do that?"

"Is this a private party or can anyone play?" It was Murphy, entering from his own office. "Not that I was eavesdropping or anything."

"Murphy!" She wheeled around to include her friend. "Defense counsel subpoenaed Mr. Steele for a deposition on Gordon Hunter's prosecution."

To Laura's annoyance, Murphy laughed. "What's to worry? I'm sure he's been deposed more than a few times. Though speaking for the prosecution ought to be a novelty."

The interruption had given Steele time to recover his sangfroid, but Laura had not missed the brief moment of real alarm as he had scanned the letter from Hunter's legal team.

"I think it's a marvelous idea, Mr. Michaels. Your lovely country has the full support of Remington Steele. As does its charming criminal justice system, without which we would be all unemployed."

"Will you please take this seriously?" Laura cried. "This subpoena means that the D.A. listed you as a potential testatrix at Gordon Hunter's trial. And that means Hunter's defense team will be looking for any discrepancy in the prosecution's case. That includes our investigation, in hopes of either dismissing the case or confusing the jury. And I don't think we've ever had a case with so many discrepancies in my life."

"Now, Laura, don't be so glum. I think it will be rather fun."

"Fun! This isn't funny!" Her voice had taken a hysterical pitch. "You came here to steal those gemstones and now you're going to testify about how you prevented their theft?"

Murphy couldn't resist. "Come on, Laura. It should be interesting. It'll be a novel experience getting a couple hours of real work out of him. Be a nice change, watching _Him_ sweat for a change."

Laura sank down into a chair beside the desk and pressed a hand against her forehead. "I should have foreseen this," she said with a moan. "With all the publicity around the case, of course Hunter's defense team would depose you. And that means the D.A. probably wants to use your testimony. Oh, my God. What are we going to do? You can't testify!"

Steele blinked. "Why ever not? I've seen all the right movies. _Witness for the Prosecution, Inherit the Wind, Judgment at Nuremberg, All the President's Men. To Kill a Mockingbird!_ Gregory Peck, Mary Badham, Universal Studios, 1962 _._ How difficult can it be?"

"This isn't a movie! And you're not Marlene Dietrich."

"Heavens, no! I rather fancy myself in the Atticus Finch role."

Murphy said, "Atticus Finch? My God, Laura, you're right. He can't testify at Hunter's trial."

Steele waved a hand. "Nonsense. Remington Steele is honor-bound to assist law enforcement in very nearly any way he can. As they say on your telly, the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"Oh, no! The truth!" Now she looked like she really was going to cry.

One dark eyebrow arched. "I _am_ capable of occasional truthfulness, you know."

"That's not what I meant," Laura moaned.

Murphy said, "I get it, Laura. The first thing our Mr. Steele will have to do is testify, under oath, that he _is_ Remington Steele."

"And when he does," Laura added, "that's automatic perjury. What if the defense notices this is the first time anyone's ever seen you? Hunter already twigged to the idea. That's why we set up that penthouse suite in the first place. He kept insisting that he had to meet you, since no one else ever had. What if his defense decides to investigate your background? They'll find out that you didn't exist as of six months ago."

"Then what's to investigate?" Steele asked brightly. "There'll be nothing to find."

"Because if the defense figures out you're a fraud," she pushed past his protests, "Then not only does your testimony become tainted, so does mine and so does Murphy's. The case would get thrown out of court."

"Oh."

"And there goes the reputation of Remington Steele Investigations," Murphy concluded angrily. "Bang out the window. Laura, I knew he was bad for the agency! I don't know why I didn't foresee this sooner."

"I don't think any of us did, Murph. This is his first case that actually goes to trial. He wasn't involved in any of our other cases running through the courts."

"Pardon me, but 'He' is very much in this room and would prefer to be referred to in the first person," Steele interjected.

"Our whole reputation is going to be riding on this. Ironic, since that's why we took Hunter's business in the first case. Reputation gets us clients and credibility when we have to testify in civil or criminal court. I don't know if I can start all over again." To her horror, Laura realized her eyes were suddenly smarting. _I'm not going to cry. I'm not!_ She felt a sudden surge of anger at the injustice, but one look at Steele's repentant, ashen face, and the anger deflated itself.

"It was never my intention to harm you or the agency," he said quietly. "Would it really be better if I did leave?"

"Yes!" Murphy exclaimed.

"No!" Laura surprised herself. They both gaped at her.

She appealed to both men. "Look, no matter what we think, he really does have to testify. If Mr. Steele refuses, then we're in the same predicament. Worse, in fact, because his failure to appear taints our testimony. The case will be dismissed. And not only will Gordon Hunter get off the hook, sorry as I feel for him, so will those men who murdered the real Ben Pearson. We can't let that happen."

"So we're stuck with him," said Murphy. "We're damned if we do, and damned if we don't."

"How elegantly you put it, Murphy," said Steele.

"We're just going to have to pull together and get through this. If the defense wants Mr. Steele, then we'll give them Mr. Steele. I think D.A. Hernandez can help us as well."

"I'd like the chance to testify," Steele surprised them all by saying. His voice was grim. "Not only to help the agency. But I very badly want to put away the despicable Kessler and Neff for what they did to poor Mr. Pearson. He didn't deserve being murdered. Not by half."

They settled on coaching. The blessed Assistant District Attorney Hernandez came through with transcripts of Laura's and Murphy's depositions, as well as the official police report, and they used that to keep Steele's story straight, as well as assure that the agency's head really did know the full backstory surrounding Hunter's hiring them to protect the gems. "The defense will compare our stories for errors and contradictions," Laura had explained. "Anything to destabilize the prosecution's case."

"Blowing smoke. Creating uncertainty even when there isn't any."

"Exactly," she said with a smile. They were in his Rossmore apartment, reviewing the case materials one last time before the trial began. _And, I must admit, he's taking this need for accuracy seriously. Much more than I expected._

"It's like a well-executed plan, Laura." It was uncanny how he could sometimes read her thoughts. "Pain-staking attention to detail, careful analysis of the alternatives, every contingency evaluated in advance. All leading to a smooth, successful operation."

"We're not stealing a painting," she said, remembering his mastery around the Five Nudes of Cairo, and that prompted a wistful smile.

"No. But it was rather fun."

She smiled back. "I suppose it was. Apart from getting arrested by the police. And being kidnapped by the other thieves." She shook her head. "You'll have to testify in their trial, too. You'd better get used to it."

"I admit all this cooperation with law enforcement and the wheels of justice is a rather novel sensation. But not an unpleasant one." He stretched his long length on the sofa. Rotated his head to relieve an apparent cramp, and then stood. "How about a break? Coffee?"

"What time is it? Nine-thirty already? Far too late for coffee."

"So it is." He disappeared into his kitchen and returned a minute later with a respectable Californian Zin and a pair of glasses. Laura watched as he expertly pulled the cork, poured, and handed her a glass before raising his own. "To new experiences."

"Cheers." It was a very good wine; he had an excellent palate, and she decided to say as much. "You really do have exquisite taste. Where did you develop it?"

"Oh, here and there. I had a good mentor who understood the finer things."

Laura chuckled. "I must be a great trial. For me it's wine-in-a-box and takeaway dinner. I guess I'm too frugal to spend the money, and work too much to spend the time cooking."

He shrugged it off. "You work hard to earn it. But no, I don't think that's it. I think your passion is elsewhere, and that's where your investments are."

He was right, of course, and his insight into her personality – and his willingness to comment on it – caught her by surprise. Why did she continually underestimate him? "Like the agency," she said.

"Like the agency," he agreed. "Or that piano in your home. I confess I've never heard you play."

"Really? I guess that's probably true. I've been so busy, I'm not sure I've played for myself lately, let alone for an audience. I used to play quite a lot. My grandparents were quite musical. When I play, it keeps their memories alive." She fell silent, thinking of them, and after a while realized that the silence had stretched. But it was a companionable silence and, she realized, it wasn't uncomfortable. She met his blue eyes and realized he had been quietly watching her. She blushed a little. "I'm sorry. I'm not being very good company."

"Nonsense. I was thinking a bit, myself."

"Penny for them?"

He shrugged. Sipped again. Clearly deciding how to reply. "Actually, I was thinking about you."

"Oh? Do tell." Time to take a chance, she decided, and see where those thoughts might lead.

"It started with Gordon Hunter. And that led to you. And passions."

She set down her glass, his words unexpected. She had expected something flattering, or seductive. "What? Me and Hunter? I don't-?"

"See it? I suppose not. You're too close. But I'm not insensitive, Laura. I've noticed the parallels." His expression was serious, and the charming rouge was replaced by a man who looked like he truly cared.

"Parallels? I don't get it."

He suddenly smiled. "I like that little furrow between your brows when you're puzzled."

"You like to puzzle me," Laura pointed out.

"Sometimes. But my point was Gordon Hunter. The two of you are very much alike in some ways."

She smiled at him over her glass. "You think I'm a thief?"

"You're both self-made. Worked and scraped and busted your – everything to create a vision that you're passionate about. Gone out on a limb to make that vision real. An automobile. An investigative firm. It's a remarkable quality. Most people can't do it. The closest they can come is to dream their fantasy. A very remarkable few accomplish it."

Laura blushed and buried her attention in her wineglass. And then another piece fit into the puzzle that was this man sitting beside her.

"Perhaps it takes one to recognize it in another," she said.

He cocked an eyebrow in that way that always caught at her heart. And he lifted his wineglass.

"Here's to the people who make their dreams come true."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

In the end, the D.A.'s office decided that Remington Steele would speak. After all, even the newspapers had fingered him for Gordon Hunter's arrest. He was a sensation, as Laura explained to Murphy. The prosecution would want the biggest bullets in its prosecutorial gun, and having the reclusive agency head, especially a media darling, was a big one.

The trial was already a media circus. Between Hunter's touching rags-to-riches-to-rags story, the brutal murder of the South African agent, and the now-notorious Royal Lavulite gemstones, the press coverage had out-competing the dueling coverage of John DeLorean's cocaine trial. Once the media caught wind that the sensational Remington Steele would be on the stand, the cameras lined the courthouse steps as well as its corridors. _Private eye Remington Steele appears at L.A. courthouse, accompanied by unidentified aide._ "The Remington Steele Agency is only too delighted to serve in the cause of justice," he proclaimed to a frankly fawning crowd outside the building's entrance. _Does he write this material in advance? Certainly this art deco building suits him to a 'T'._

"I didn't think he'd show up this morning," Murphy said, _sotto voce_ , in her ear as they waited, some distance away, for the press to release him.

"You owe me lunch," said Laura. "He was actually waiting outside his building when I arrived in the limo with Fred. Like a kid keen for his first day of kindergarten."

"This ain't kindergarten. If he blows this, our rep is finished."

"He's certainly eating _this_ up. I don't know who loves each other more, him or the press."

"He loves the attention. It'll be different once he's on the stand."

"Do you suppose he's ever been in court before? Asked to testify?" she wondered aloud.

"You mean, has he ever been tried and convicted? Couldn't find a thing, but who knows what name it would have been under. Certainly not one of those passports."

"I think he's clean," Laura replied softly. "This trial is going to be all over the media. Someone would recognize him and he's got to be aware of that. Say what you will, our Mr. Steele's not a fool."

"No. Just a thief and a liar."

She ignored him and said, a little louder, "Mr. Steele? We need to find our seats."

An aide from the D.A.'s office – a woman not much older than Laura – _unidentified aide? Fellow traveler?_ greeted them just inside the metal detector and escorted them to the courtroom where Hunter's case was being tried. Both she and Murphy had testified numerous times in the county's jurisdiction, first with Havenhurst and later with the agency, and they were known to the employees and staff. Mr. Steele, however, was a new item and people watched with frank curiosity as he moved effortlessly through the crowded corridors, nodding and listening in a perfect impersonation of the ersatz Steele. _And why not? He_ is _easy to look at._ They found their reserved seats several rows behind the prosecution. Murphy glanced at her fixed profile and fell silent, sensing her mood. _Why am I so nervous? I've been here a dozen times. But my stomach's doing flip-flops. What is Hunter's defense going to pull? Michael Carmelo's a brilliant attorney. I didn't know Hunter had the money left to pay for him, given all his debts. Funny enough, people actually wanted that car in the end. I've seen a few JetStar 6000's on the streets. Maybe the company's going to make a go of it after all? Or maybe it's just the banks trying to protect what's left of their investments._

Gordon Hunter now appeared, escorted by an officer to join his legal team. Gone was the elegant, confident man Laura remembered from their first meeting. That man had dreamt of an automobile and had made it come true. The tan was gone, of course, but so was that look of confidence that said anything was possible. He was impeccably dressed – his lawyers had seen to that – but Laura thought he had lost some weight. And certainly he had lost his passion.

Unexpectedly, as Hunter took his seat, he glanced over and caught her eye. _The two of you have something in common._ Remembering, Laura gave Hunter a smile and a small, friendly nod. His eyes widened and, after a long moment, he nodded back, uncertain of her motive but willing to accept the small gift of humanity. A little bit of the verve came back and he sat a little straighter.

Seated beside her, Steele had also caught the exchange, and his own expression grew thoughtful.

The trial had begun two days earlier with predictable opening remarks from both sides. Prosecution proposed that Hunter had intended to steal the stones all along, while defense insisted on his innocence. The insurance officials had already testified regarding their interactions with Hunter in arranging the display and covering half their insured value. A lawyer had spoken about Hunter's contacting his firm, arranging to display the stones at the JetStar's unveiling. This morning's testimony continued the temporal sequence and opened with Laura, as she had handled the agency's initial interaction with Hunter. Led by Hernandez, she recounted their first meetings with Hunter, how she and Murphy had devised the scheme for transporting the gemstones, and Hunter's approval of the misdirection once the plans were revealed to him. She outlined how she supervised the armored truck that morning after the reception, and how she was about to leave for the airport when Murphy stumbled over to announce that he'd been attacked and the stones stolen.

"And then what happened?"

"I knew that the two suspects who had attempted the theft in South Africa had been jailed," she said, carefully qualifying her statements for legal accuracy; their trial was still in the works. "Logically, they couldn't have attacked Mr. Michaels. And then I remembered my conversation with Mr. Hunter the previous evening."

"What conversation was that?"

She looked at Hunter, and her expression softened. "It was after the big announcement party. He was depressed and sought out a sympathetic ear. He told me that he'd spent years of work and a great deal of money to develop the JetStar 6000. He had 800 people employed and was deeply in debt. But no one had offered to buy the car. He would be financially ruined. And I realized that this gave him a powerful motive to steal the Royal Lavulite."

"And what did you do in response to that conclusion?"

"I recalled seeing Mr. Hunter leave the hotel just a few minutes earlier. He had carried a small suitcase. He had hailed a taxi and seemed in a great rush. So Mr. Michaels and I proceeded to the airport, where we quickly located Mr. Hunter and found the gemstones on his person."

"Miss Holt, what was the value of these gemstones."

"I'm told they were priceless, rarer than diamonds." Steele's voice echoed in her memory. "They were valued at two-point-six million and insured for one-point-three in U.S. dollars. Mr. Hunter was liable for the remainder."

"That's a great deal of money. Such a high value and high publicity case was a first for the Remington Steele agency. Is that correct?" That was an odd question, coming from the prosecution. _We hadn't discussed this line of questioning before. What does he want from me?_ The little frown appeared.

"The gemstones have a colorful history. And there was a great deal of publicity attached to the car," she said, opting to answer his question obliquely.

"Was this the first time your agency had protected something of this high value?"

"That would be correct." Her puzzlement grew. _Where is Hernandez going with this?_

"Did it strike you as odd that Mr. Hunter sought out Remington Steele Investigations for this high profile, high risk security job?"

"Noo," but she couldn't keep the slight hesitation from her voice. She repeated, with more confidence, "It wasn't at all 'odd'. We've had several cases that received significant media publicity. And very satisfied clients."

"But not a case wherein the item was worth millions. Has it occurred to you, Miss Holt, that Mr. Hunter may have hired the agency precisely because of your relative inexperience? That he intended to take advantage of that inexperience because he planned to steal the gemstones all along?"

She felt her cheeks grow warm. _So that's where he was headed with this! Bastard!_

Her voice hardened, and her high color gave her a beautiful defiance that, had she been aware of it, would have embarrassed her. She was certainly unaware of the effect it had on at least one other person in the courtroom. "The Remington Steele agency is not naïve, Mr. Hernandez. We investigated Mr. Hunter thoroughly before accepting him as a client. The insurance company documented the valuation and confirmed the insurance. We took every precaution. But with respect to Mr. Hunter's intent? I cannot speak to that, as it would be speculation." She held his gaze until he broke contact and turned toward the defense. _Damn you. Why couldn't you clue us in first?_

"No more questions. Your witness, Mr. Camello."

Gordon Hunter's high-priced defense attorney, Michael Camello, crossed the room and favored Laura with a smile as she continued on the witness stand. His calm confidence only sent Laura's defenses even higher.

"Miss Holt. I understand that the Remington Steele agency had good cause to believe an attempt would be made to steal the Royal Lavulite. Is that correct?

"That is correct," she echoed, letting the repetition calm herself. "They were stolen from the original owners in South Africa. A man was murdered there. There were subsequent theft attempts in Paris and in London."

"The murdered man was, in fact, a courier for the stones?"

"That's correct."

"How did you learn of this?"

 _Careful, Laura._ "From a South African law enforcement agent, Mr. Ben Pearson." She avoided looking at Steele. _At least it's a half-truth; that's who he told us he was._

"And he was murdered, also, was he not?"

"Yes, sadly he was. The South African government confirmed this information." She had liked the real Ben Pearson, as short an acquaintance as it had been. She owed it to him.

"That would make two murders due to those beautiful stones. And your job was to secure them. Dangerous job for a woman, wouldn't you say?"

Laura looked him straight in the eye. "I can get the job done. And did." _Patronize me all you like. It won't rattle me._

The defense attorney backed down, having made his point and aware that he couldn't afford to offend the two younger women on the jury. "Indeed, Miss Holt, you did succeed and most admirably. In fact, your agency also contributed to the arrest of two gentlemen who have since been charged with that crime."

"We did."

"So given this violent and international history, why would you suspect my client – an auto mechanic – of this latest theft? Surely there were many other people trying to steal those stones, real thieves. You can't be that naïve."

"I'm not—" Laura collected herself. _You're right. I wasn't that naïve. We all thought the thief was the man sitting two rows behind the Assistant D.A.._ "It was possible."

"It was possible," he repeated. "In fact, Miss Holt, wasn't the ownership of the stones in dispute? Weren't the concerns from Paris and London actually attempts to steal and return the gemstones to their rightful owner, from whom they had originally been stolen?"

Her blood froze. _You mean the attempts by 'Mr. Steele'. How much homework have you done? How much of his past history do you really know? Careful, Laura._

"There may have been past attempts," she agreed. "There may have even been attempts to retrieve the gemstones while they were under our protection in L.A. But I did not have firsthand knowledge of those. Indeed, the firsthand facts that I did have suggested otherwise. That the thief was someone who had knowledge of our security plans. Logically, that person was Mr. Hunter."

My client is a businessman, not a jewel thief."

"No, Mr. Hunter was not a very good jewel thief. But he learned of the security arrangements just the day before. He knew the stones would be transferred to the airport courier the morning after the reception and then transported to San Francisco. I observed him leaving the hotel and enter a taxi, just before Mr. Michaels arrived. And, as subsequence events showed, our hunch was correct." _I'm sorry, Mr. Hunter. Truly I am._

"Who else, Miss Holt, knew about your security plans for the gemstones?"

"No one, to my knowledge. Even the armed guards we had hired were unaware of the real plan."

"Did Mr. Ben Pearson of the South African law enforcement know your plans?"

"No. He did not."

"Wasn't there a fraudulent Inspector Pearson also at large?"

Laura looked him straight in the eye. "We heard such a rumor. We received no direct confirmation."

The attorney frowned. "No further questions."

Laura returned to her seat, maintaining the firm step and high head that bespoke confidence in her testimony. Under the cover of moving chairs and shuffled papers, Steele leaned over. "Well done, Laura. That was rather brutal."

"He's paid to get Hunter off," she whispered back. Her emotions still stung from the intensity she'd just been through. "Surely you've been grateful for defense attorneys before."

"I don't like to see the agency's reputation sullied like that."

"It won't be."

Murphy was next to testify. Prosecution led him along the same lines as Laura, and he corroborated her description of their meetings with Hunter including development of the security arrangements. "Mr. Michaels, is it typical to provide a client with such detailed information regarding security plans?"

"No, it isn't. Mr. Hunter's approval of the plans was a condition of the agency's employment."

"Did this strike you as unusual?"

"Initially, it did. But as we worked with him, it became clear to us that Mr. Hunter was a very hands-on individual. Detail-oriented. It was consistent with his character, given that he led a company that he had personally built." As he spoke, Murphy was still his easy-going self. But Laura could see that her own bout with the D.A. had him rattled, too, and he was being cautious in his answers.

"Now can you describe for us your actions on the day the stones were stolen?"

"We continued with the plan for transporting the gemstones back to LAX for the courier flight to San Francisco. Nothing we learned suggested that those plans had been compromised. Miss Holt supervised the quartet of professional armed guards who moved the fake briefcase from the hotel safe to their armored car. All very ostentatious. Meanwhile, I had already removed the real case with the real stones from the hotel safe. I transported them using a hotel laundry cart to a side door, where our rental truck was waiting. I was dressed as a laundry delivery man."

"And then what happened?"

It had happened months ago, but the back of Murphy's head still ached from the memory. "I opened the rear of the truck and wheeled the cart from the loading dock into the truck. Just as I turned, there was a brief shadow that blocked the light from the door. Then someone struck me hard on the back of the head. I must have passed out for maybe ten or twenty seconds. When I came to, the case and the gemstones were gone from the cart. I immediately contacted Miss Holt, who was at the front of the hotel supervising the armored truck, and I told her what happened."

"Thank you, Mr. Michaels." The D.A. turned to the table at his right. "Your witness, counsel."

Laura and Murphy hadn't previously encountered Hunter's defense team except for collection of the depositions, and after Laura's grilling, Murphy was on the defensive.

"Mr. Michaels, that's a very clear description of events. At any time, did my client pay more than worried attention to your security details?"

"As I said, Mr. Hunter was very detail-oriented."

"And in your experience, how many clients have asked you to secure a rare collection of multi-million dollar gems, prior to Mr. Hunter."

 _Damn._ Murphy hid his annoyance. "Mr. Hunter was the first." Then he quickly added, "Multi-million dollar gems aren't on display every day. Or every month."

"Little surprise, then, that my client wanted to be sure that you were as qualified as claimed." Beside Laura, she felt Steele tense at the innuendo. She leaned over and whispered, "It's okay. He's supposed to try to blame us instead of Hunter. Murphy knows it's coming."

"Mr. Michaels, wasn't there another reason why our client was so concerned about the security details?"

"That's correct. Mr. Hunter informed us that his insurance on the Royal Lavulite stones only covered half of their value. He would be personally responsible for the other half, if the stones went missing. So we took his security concerns very seriously."

"Thank you, Mr. Michaels. One last question. Did you see the person or thing that struck you in the truck?"

Murphy looked chagrined, despite himself. "No, I did not."

"Then it might not have been my client?"

"That's correct."

"No further questions."

 _That's about what I expected,_ Laura thought. _Create more doubt. I didn't foresee that both sides want to make us look bad._ Her stomach tensed. _I wonder what they're going to make of Mr. Steele. Don't blow it for us, buster._

Next…Chapter 3…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

And then it was Mr. Steele's turn to testify. He was dressed to perfection and presented the court recorder with a smile so dazzling that she was still staring as he took the stand, and she had to scramble to catch up with her typing. _Ham!_ He laid a firm palm on the Bible as he was sworn in, as if the book were his dearest friend. _Oh, please._

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do." Not a waiver in his voice. Laura could hear his inner gleeful dialogue in her mind. _Just like in the movies!_ She didn't dare to catch his eye.

"You are Remington Steele, the head of detective agency of the same name?"

"That is my title with the agency." Laura sat up sharply at his Jesuitical reply. _Well said! And true enough. Stick with the script. Don't get glib._

"We've heard testimony from Miss Holt and Mr. Michaels on this case. Could you please describe for us the role you played in protecting the Royal Lavulite stones?"

"My role with Remington Steele Investigations is often in an advisory capacity," he said smoothly, reiterating Laura's party line. "Miss Holt and Mr. Michaels are outstanding investigators and they're perfectly capable of conducting a security operation such as Mr. Hunter's without my input. In fact, they quite often do. It would be inappropriate, if not actually insulting, were I to micromanage their responsibilities. It hardly bears repeating that I have the utmost confidence in their skills and judgment."

"And with respect to the specifics of Mr. Hunter's case?"

"They certainly had no need for my input. I was, of course, aware of their arrangements and quite approved of the misdirection used to conceal the real transport of the gemstones from the airport to the hotel, using the ostentatious armored car. 'People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.' Gregory Peck in _To Kill a Mockingbird._ " In the audience, Laura groaned and sank into her seat on the wooden bench. _This isn't a movie!_ "Deception is the art of security, and their plan was a very clever gambit. I observed that Mr. Hunter also approved. I happened to be, ah, in transit through the airport at the time."

Laura's mouth almost dropped open and, beside her, she felt Murphy clench. "He _knew_?!" he muttered in her ear. "That bastard was on to us? And only _now_ tells us?"

"So it seems," she whispered angrily. "And before we even met him." _Do you suppose they'd object if we left his body in the courthouse?_

Steele and the D.A. were oblivious to the quiet conversation. The latter had moved on to Steele's first meeting with Hunter.

"Yes, it was at the hotel the day before the gemstones arrived. Mr. Hunter was experiencing some anxiety about the gemstones' security, and I took it on my personal authority to be physically present and assure Mr. Hunter that he was receiving the agency's fullest attention." _My personal authority? You crashed the party!_

"And your impression of Mr. Hunter?"

"A strong-willed, talented businessman. He had a considerable investment – financial, physical, emotional – in the JetStar 6000. He had created a powerful product, and like any expectant father, he was naturally quite concerned about the delivery."

Laura rolled her eyes.

"And what did you discuss?"

"Mutual interests. The agency's commitment to his job. I appreciated his concern regarding the Royal Lavulite's safety. He informed me that he was on the hook, personally, for half the insured value of the gemstones should they be stolen. Given their value, his anxiety was understandable."

"And when did he become aware that, in fact, there was a serious attempt to steal them?"

"Not until well after the fact, when the two less-than-gentlemen had been arrested for Ben Pearson's murder."

"And why the delay over informing him of the risk?"

"Our client, as I said, was under considerable anxiety. We felt he was best served by focusing his energies and time on the media launch for his automobile. Security was what he hired the Remington Steele agency for. Every leader understands the need for delegation, and security was delegated to us, precisely so that he could focus on the more important issue of his company's debut."

Murphy leaned over. "You don't suppose he actually read that management book he borrowed?"

"No. He probably got it from a movie. _The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit_ , maybe. He did say he liked Gregory Peck."

"Don't you start doing it."

The D.A. had continued the line of questioning. "—news of the aborted theft?"

"Quite well. To be frank, I'm not certain the news actually registered. He was quite focused on the aftermath of the JetStar's reception."

"Which was not successful."

"Ah, no," Steele agreed reluctantly. "Events did not proceed as he anticipated."

"And did you see the accused again?"

"Not until we detained him at the airport on the following morning."

"Thank you. No further questions," said the lead prosecutor, and returned to his table at the front of the courtroom.

Steele shot his cuffs and gave the court recorder another smile as he waited for Camello to take over. Laura realized her hands were clenched, fingernails stabbing into her palms. _Don't you dare let your guard down! The defense attorneys are the bad guys, not the good guys, this time. Take your time before answering. Remember the script. Don't make up answers. Don't pretend to be Marlene Dietrich. Or Gregory Peck._

Steele glanced at her quickly and met her anxious gaze. There was, to her annoyance, a faint humor in his, and she realized that he knew precisely what she had been thinking. _Yes, mamma. No, mamma. Comedian!_

"Mr. Steele, we appreciate your time from your busy schedule. Your testimony was quite clear, and your defense of your employees most admirable."

"And most sincere. Miss Holt and Mr. Michaels are the heart and soul of the Remington Steele agency."

"Please tell us, weren't there numerous parties – professional thieves, in fact – who were interested in obtaining the Royal Lavulite stones for themselves?

"You refer to the Messers Kessler and Neff, a pair of disreputable thieves from across the pond." _A sin of omission. But omission isn't perjury._

"You were aware that they were in L.A. to steal the Royal Lavulite? In fact, they were staying in the same hotel as the gemstones."

"I was, indeed, very much aware. Alas, in your fine country one cannot restrict a person from staying in a hotel on a mere suspicion. Miss Holt and I monitored their movements closely. And, as you know, we were successful in apprehending them."

"But didn't those men attempt to steal the gems just weeks earlier? An attempt in which the insurance company's courier was brutally murdered?"

Steele gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Indeed. Mr. Pearson made us aware of that sad circumstance."

 _You're being truthful there. We learned it from Mr. Pearson before he became Mr. Steele._

"Mr. Steele, isn't it also true that the ownership of the Royal Lavulite was under legal dispute? According to the South African police, there was a third party who also followed the gems across the Atlantic, was there not? Representing an opposing interest who claimed to be the rightful owner and offered a finder's fee for the gemstones' return."

 _Damn. Damn. Damm._ She stared at Steele with an intensity that surely he must have felt all the way to the back of his well-dressed spine. _How the hell did the defense learn about you?_

"Mr. Pearson informed us of something of the kind."

"You must have followed up that threat?"

"Mr. Michaels made contact with the South Africans. Unfortunately, they could provide no useful description of any such third party. Assuming he existed, he could have looked like anyone, including myself." And he bestowed upon the attorney his patented innocent-Mr.-Steele-look. There were appreciative chuckles from the audience.

Laura closed her eyes and fought the sudden need to put her head below her knees.

"Given that so many thieves were popping in and out of rooms at the hotel," continued the attorney, "it was only logical to continue as if another attempt would be made to steal them, even though Mr. Kessler and Mr. Neff were in police custody?"

"That's correct. As Mr. Michaels testified, the agency continued with the original security plans. After all, no attempt had been made and the plan was a good one. The gemstones' next stop was San Francisco. Although Ben Pearson's murderers had been caught earlier that night, the decision was made to continue under the assumption that another attempt might be made."

"Mr. Steele, given all the genuine jewel thieves who were roaming Los Angeles, including one who might or might not have looked like yourself—" (here Laura emitted a small moan) "—why did your agency decide to attach suspicion to my client? Suspicion that, by your own admission, was completely unwarranted."

 _Damn. Remember what we talked about. No need to answer. Just go back and remind him of my testimony._

Steele gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "I agree with you. Until the theft itself, there was no reason to single out Mr. Hunter for suspicion. He was, after all, our client."

"And why didn't you suspect this mysterious third agent, Mr. Steele?"

Laura suddenly found that she couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Carmelo, a trained investigator suspects everyone. But once the facts present themselves, the truth is illuminated. Illumination came when Mr. Michaels was assaulted and the gems taken from him."

"You're not answering my question. Why accuse my client, a perfectly innocent man, instead of a known jewel thief?"

"I believe Miss Holt has already testified to that. It is entirely due to her deductive insights that the thief's true identity was revealed. In the time I've known her, Miss Holt's investigative insights have been nothing short of brilliant, and this case was no exception." Laura frowned. _He sounds like he means it. Can I be hearing this right?_ "Miss Holt knew that Mr. Hunter was aware of the security details for the stones, including Mr. Michaels' role in transporting the stones while Miss Holt and the security service acted as decoys. Remembering her conversation with Mr. Hunter the previous evening, she immediately pieced together this unexpected deduction and arranged with Mr. Michaels to intercept the suspect at the airport. Fortuitously, I was already there, in my role to orchestrate the gemstones' transfer to their next recipient."

 _Another truth. And conveniently omitting that this next recipient was be to yourself. My, but you're good at this._

"Miss Holt and Mr. Michaels arrived at the airport at the same time as Mr. Hunter. Recognizing the suspect—" _Another truth, not admitting that we suspected_ you"—they gave pursuit. As you have already heard, Mr. Michaels narrowly missed apprehending him. And again thanks to Miss Holt's perseverance, we detaining Mr. Hunter and found the Royal Lavulite in his possession. Since Mr. Hunter was not involved in the security arrangements for the San Francisco transfer, logically, the stones should not have been on his person. As my fellow countryman Sherlock Holmes once said, when you eliminate the obvious, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

 _Your fellow countryman? I suppose that's true. You're both from the land of Fiction._

"And you were surprised to find the gems in my client's possession?"

Steele paused, and after a long moment admitted, "I was surprised."

Laura looked at him, startled. The easy charisma was supplanted with a sincerity that made Laura sit up. As he continued to speak, Laura found that her eyes began to uncharacteristically glisten. "I was very much surprised by Mr. Hunter's actions. In my professional judgment, I don't believe Mr. Hunter ever intended to take the stones. He was totally focused on his dream of launching a new automobile. He admitted to Miss Holt the strain he was under. Despite the sensational reception, he received not a single offer to purchase his car. He said his dreams had been shattered. It was a lapse of judgment. Mr. Hunter did assault Mr. Michaels, and he did steal the stones. But his act was so impulsive that it never occurred to him that the stones are impossible to fence. They're too well known. He had no knowledge on how to liquidate their value." He looked directly at Hunter, who was openly gaping at Steele, but Laura knew he was speaking to another. "Gordon Hunter is not a thief. I'm in a position to know."

 _And so you are. I'm sorry I doubted you. You kept your promise. You spoke only the truth._

There was a silence. Even the defense attorney looked a little stunned. After a moment, he managed to say, "No further questions."

After the court had adjourned for lunch, D.A. Hernandez hauled the agency trio into a private conference room. He was furious, of course, but to Laura's continued amazement, Steele stood his ground. "We both know that I'm right. The real criminals in this case are Raymond Kessler and Leo Neff, not Gordon Hunter. And I promise you on behalf of Remington Steele Investigations, we will do everything in our power to make sure they are put away for good."

"You damn well better! You nearly dissolved my case! Why the hell should I proceed with any prosecutions if my office can't depend on you to stick to the story?"

Steele's reply took a hard edge that made Laura and Murphy exchange glances. "And I don't like you embarrassing my employees in public. You made Miss Holt and Mr. Michaels look badly, and I won't have it. I think the cooperation goes both ways, don't you?" He continued, "You'll find, Mr. Hernandez, that I did 'stick to the story.' In my time with the agency I've developed a strong fondness for the truth. I won't have you humiliate my employees. And I'll be damned if you'll use my name – or the agency's – to railroad an unfortunate man into a false conviction."

Murphy and Laura were seated behind Steele. Murphy's jaw dropped. "Did I just hear that correctly?" he said, sotto voce. "From Mr. I'll Never Give a Straight Answer?"

Laura was equally stunned. "If I heard what you heard? And I think I just did. Can our Mr. Steele have turned a new leaf?"

"Nah. There's still a scam in there, somewhere. We just haven't figured it out yet."

The problem, Laura feared, is that Murphy could well be right.

Next…Chapter 4…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

An empty champagne bottle sat on the coffee table in Steele's office. A second one, half-filled, rested in the agency's ice bucket. The four of them, Laura, Murphy, Bernice and Steele, had celebrated the trial's successful conclusion with champagne and a good-natured bantering that had bounced around everyone equally, and for the first time since the ersatz Steele had joined the agency, Laura thought that the four of them might actually be a team. But any satisfaction she might have derived from that discovery was tempered by separate news that the D.A.'s office had shared with her earlier that day, and with it came the realization that this evening was likely the one and only time they would share this camaraderie. _Enjoy it while you can, Laura. It was a fun ride while it lasted. In a crazy way, I'm going to miss this._ She hadn't yet shared the news with the others, not wanting to spoil their celebration. Steele had given her a funny glance at one point – did he know? – and so she had injected herself into the festive atmosphere with redoubled enthusiasm. Murphy and Bernice had finally begged off half an hour earlier, and with their departure, Laura was experiencing this strange mixture of elation and apprehension. And Steele…? She was back to being unable to read him. He had slipped back into his roguish persona by the time they reached the office and all through the party. But now it was just the two of them, and he had turned unexpectedly quiet.

"You're right, you know," Laura finally said into the comfortable silence.

"Me? Right?" The man who called himself Remington Steele looked up, startled, and set his glass on the table. "I must write this occasion down."

She smiled. "About Gordon Hunter. He wasn't a thief. He was just a sad, desperate man who wasn't thinking straight and panicked. The case should never have gone to trial."

"No. But I was under the impression that neither party wanted a plea deal."

"If the defense had plead, then Gordon would go to jail, even if to one of those luxury suites next to DeLorean's. Instead, he got time served, plus probation, and he's back out to salvage the remnants of his company."

"He might make a go of it. I've seen two or three of his cars on the road. Maybe we'll have to get one, just for sentiment's sake."

Laura laughed. "Flashy's more your style. I'm afraid the JetStar 6000's out of my price range. And not exactly inconspicuous during a stake-out."

"Ah, well. Another fantasy shattered." He reached forward with the bottle to refill her glass, but Laura moved a hand over its rim. "I'm fine."

She continued watching him. _I want to remember this moment. Him. The way he is now._ Perfect necktie loosened and collar pin dangling, jacket hung neatly over his chair, but the vest still buttoned. Lounging casually but the blue eyes alert and considering her. Impulsively, she leaned across the sofa and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

He turned toward her, surprised. "What's that about?"

"For staying in L.A. to testify against Hunter. It couldn't have been easy for you, appearing in court, swearing before law enforcement. It would have been much easier to just leave. And not risk being recognized, or getting caught in a lie."

"I did say that Remington Steele was a man of his word."

"And I underestimated you. So I owe you an apology."

"For not adhering to the case the D.A. laid out? I rather think I owe you one for the support."

She smiled. "In that case, we'll call it even."

A corner of his mouth twitched, and he said, "'We're paying the highest tribute you can pay a man. We trust him to do right. It's that simple.' Gregory Peck in—"

" _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Universal, 1962. I love that movie, too."

 _How in sync we are. It would be frightening if it didn't feel so right._ Then her smile faded, and she looked down at her drink. Toyed with the glass. _I have to tell him. I'm sorry. Better you hear it from me._ _Even if it means you're work is finished here._

"What is it, Laura? Something's been troubling you all evening."

 _Q.E.D. How well you know me._ She sighed. "It's Kessler and Neff."

"What about them?" he asked, his voice sharpening.

"I know you wanted to testify against them. D.A. Hernandez told me today that South Africa has requested their extradition. Seems they want to try them for the murders of both Ben Pearson and that courier. Their lawyers will fight, of course, but their extradition's a sure deal. And Hernandez is going to recommend cooperation."

"Damn," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry." She decided to make light of it. That option didn't hurt as much. _And I'm surprised at how much this hurts._ "I suppose the good news is that you won't have to testify in their trial. With the L.A. police making the arrest, Hernandez thought there was a pretty strong case. But between the politics and the legalities, the South Africans have priority."

"Well. Perhaps it's for the best. It would eliminate a potential awkwardness." In response to her inquisitive look, he added, "In the course of our brief time together, Kessler and Neff learned a tad bit more about me than perhaps would be preferable to emerge in a trial."

She thought it through. "The five passports?" she guessed.

"Mm hmm."

His words confirmed her thinking and her heart felt unexpectedly heavy. _That's what I thought. Once they're gone, you've no reason to stay. Won't want to stay. I didn't stop to think of that when I forced you into testifying. I didn't realize what a risk it was for you._ She swallowed, trying to steady her voice. _This is harder to say than I thought._

"I waited to say this until Murphy and Bernice left. Because I wanted it to be just between us."

He frowned at her, puzzled. "Laura?"

She spoke quickly, to make sure she said it before she lost courage. "Because I understand that you probably don't want to stay here. Need to stay, now that your testimony against them isn't necessary. I get it, respect it, that there's a code of honor. Between thieves, I suppose. But that put you at risk. And I don't want you to get into trouble. I don't want the agency to get you into trouble."

"You think that I've only stayed because I want to see those two criminals imprisoned?" He looked at her with that impossibly blue gaze that seemed to look straight into her soul and lay her own vulnerabilities bare.

"Laura," he breathed her name. Reached out. Ran a finger across her cheek. Down her throat to her open collar. Rested his hand beneath it, his touch setting her aflame.

"How is it that we can perfectly understand each other in one moment? And then be so absolutely wrong in the next?"

"I don't know," she whispered. She felt her own wave of arousal, and if he had made the next step she would have been utterly lost to her own response. She knew, somehow, that he knew it, too.

The world stopped. The moment stretched.

And then the blue eyes twinkled, and he gave her that devil-may-care grin that always made her heart turn over.

"Laura. Get me into trouble? You wound me. The first lesson learnt at my mother's knee was 'never to get into more trouble than you can get yourself out of'."

She leapt at the comfortable safety of their practiced banter. "Your mother taught you that?"

"Well, maybe it was an auntie."

Laura shook her head and rose. _Crisis over._ "You're impossible. Want a lift home? It's been a long day."

"Go on ahead. I've got a loose end to wrap up. I'll lock up."

"Are you sure?"

"Loose ends. See you tomorrow."

She turned to go, picked up her coat where it had dropped on a chair back.

"Laura?" She paused and turned back, hair cascading over her shoulder, and completely unaware of the giddy effect she had on him. "Thank you. For believing in me."

"Highest compliment, Mr. Steele. You're welcome." And inside, her heart was singing. _He's not leaving. At least, not yet. We have another day._

He listened to her steps recede, the door close and the snick of the front door security lock since it was after-hours. He poured himself another drink. Then granted himself the privacy to marvel in this new sensation that bubbled through him like the champagne in his glass. Laura was wholly unaware of the intoxicating effect she had on him. A certain look, a glance, and he was lost in her. If she knew the power that she had over him, what would happen?

But tonight there was an extra sensation, something different, and he wanted the time alone to sort it out. The exuberant bubbles swirled and spiraled and all he could do was to follow their course.

 _What's going on, mate? Started with that testimony, didn't it? Odd feeling, sitting in that dock. Never thought I'd see you seated there, eh? And as a witness for the prosecution. Daniel would be gob-smacked. Or laughing. Probably both. And the funniest part, of course, is that you liked it. It felt marvelous to play Remington Steele. Marvelous to set the record straight for Hunter. Didn't feel the least like grassing. Wonder why?_

He puzzled over it as he nursed the end of his drink. He was well aware that Murphy had thought that his testimony was part of a larger scam. The man had been wrong, of course. The only scam was that he had wanted to help the agency, and the best way to do so was to be the Remington Steele that Hunter, the D.A., and the jury all believed him to be. So he played the part, and Gordon Hunter's look of absolute amazement as Steele declared that Hunter wasn't a thief spoke volumes. It was a right treat to see Hunter's disbelief as the judge pronounced the verdict. And he knew damn well that Michaels and Laura had an earlier bet on whether he would testify. Could testify. He smiled to himself as he remembered Laura's expression of happy relief, quickly masked, as he greeted the limo that morning. _That was worth it, too._ And then there was that unexpected emotional buzz he'd received from overhearing the foreman's post-trial comment, that "Remington Steele's testimony was as good as his word." _My, my._ And that flush of success when he realized that his testimony had given Hunter the opportunity to make good on his dream of an independent auto company. Give Laura the opportunity to make her dream agency come true as well. _The clients will be bursting down the doors after this case._ And then a last memory, of Laura's earlier comment as they prepared for the trial. "If the defense wants Remington Steele, then we'll give them Remington Steele."

As he heard her voice again, that odd feeling grew firmer, coalesced. And then, unexpectedly, he discovered he could put a name to this novel sensation. This realization that Remington Steele had earned others' respect. And that he could leverage that respect to help others caught in traps not of their own making.

That unexpected sensation was Joy.

THE END


End file.
